


The Frozen City

by Antares



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: First Time, Kissing, M/M, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 08:38:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17097422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antares/pseuds/Antares
Summary: It's freezing cold in Atlantis, and Rodney has a plan





	The Frozen City

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Elayna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elayna/gifts).



> Many, many thanks to my beta-reader (name will follow)!!

  


 

John opened the curtains, leaned against the windowsill and looked outside. Yep, it was still snowing. Although ‘snowing’ was a much too harmless description, like snowball fights and building a snowman. The blizzard that was raging outside had kept him awake the whole night. The storm was still chasing around Atlantis’ towers, producing a strange, eerie howl that was accompanied by the staccato clicks of the ice crystals when they impacted on the windows. Everything disappeared behind a white wall of racing, tumbling snowflakes.

It was the second day in a row with weather one wouldn’t wish on a dog, and the meteorologists had ‘promised’ at least another week with these weather conditions.

John stepped back from the window and was debating with himself, whether to wear a second fleece on top of the first one, over the turtleneck and the long-sleeved t-shirt he was already wearing. Then he decided against it. Perhaps that was overkill. Although nobody would know that he also had a layer of thermal underwear under his uniform trousers, so perhaps … No, a mug with steaming coffee would be enough to keep him warm during the meeting.

He went to the mess hall and noticed that no one would have blinked an eye if he had worn three or four sweaters! His colleagues were wearing colourful shawls, woolly hats with immense pompons or knitted headbands with extravagant designs. John was curious to know where these treasures came from. The mess looked more like the hotel lobby of an Aspen mountain resort in winter. He remembered with a sudden, fond ache, the Christmases he had spent there as a child before his mother had died. After that, Christmas seemed to lose something and had become a rather heartless fest to exchange presents.

And now his colleagues looked like they were ready to go outside and have fun in the snow. It would have been possible to go sledding or practice cross country skiing, if anyone had thought about bringing the equipment. The roofs, plazas and towers of Atlantis were all covered thickly with blankets of snow. Thanks to the wet air of the surrounding ocean, immense icicles were hanging from the balconies and all the decorative elements. On the west pier the storm had piled up a mound of snow that nearly reached the second floor. The frozen city looked very lovely, especially in the rare moments when the sun came out for a few minutes.

John would have appreciated it even more, if it hadn’t been so freezing cold outside and inside. Greetings from McMurdo. Unfortunately, they didn’t have enough energy for decent heating, because the last Wraith attack had depleted one of the ZPMs entirely and drained the others considerably.

John grabbed some coffee and wrapped his fingers around the hot mug. He savoured the warmth that was streaming via his hands into his body. A careful sip from the coffee nearly burned his tongue but warmed him nicely from inside. John snatched something that looked like a bagel with honey from the counter and went to the briefing room.

Teyla was already there, and the fur she was wearing made John envious. It was a mix of grey-black-blue and looked extremely warm and soft. John felt tempted to bury his hands in it.

Elizabeth had draped around her shoulders something that looked like a chequered plaid blanket for the car. The other department heads and team leaders were in different states of non-regulation winter clothing. Only Ronon was still wearing a sleeveless shirt, his leather coat dangling from one finger, draped carelessly over his shoulder and back. Poser. John smirked. Ronon’s eyes met his, and the quick smile appearing on Ronon’s face made clear that it was the effect he had hoped for. John shook his head still grinning.

The last two people to enter the room were Radek and Rodney. Radek looked even smaller than usual, wrapped into some sort of oversized poncho with a wild flowery Athosian pattern. Rodney was in his orange fleece. He was talking with his hands, contradicting something Radek had said. John’s eyes got bigger when he noticed that Rodney wore black, fingerless gloves to complete his attire. Wow, that looked… John wanted to say ‘weird’, but suddenly he felt a burst of heat running through his body and had a very inappropriate thought about how the gloves would feel against his skin. The difference between the scratchy material and Rodney’s soft fingertips would be amazing.

“Something wrong with my gloves?” Rodney asked and took the seat beside John’s. He wriggled his fingers.

“No, no,” John assured hastily, and chided himself for being so careless. Again. During the last months, after they had nearly lost Rodney on the planet with the giant mud slide, he had to reassure himself from time to time, in increasingly shorter intervals, that Rodney was still fine. Unfortunately, Rodney had surprised him already three or four times while he was staring. At least this time he had attributed it to the fingerless gloves. The sexy fingerless gloves. John groaned inwardly and forced himself to look at Dr. Weir.

“Thank you everybody for coming on such a short notice. Today we must deal with a problem that concerns everyone on Atlantis. Doctors McKay and Zelenka have brought to my attention that the current energy saving measures will not be enough. We must cut down on our consumption or else we will not have sufficient power for the shields in case the Wraith attack once more.”

Disapproving murmurs around the table were heard. Obviously, a lot of people were accustomed to much warmer temperatures than 55 degrees Fahrenheit in their rooms, and the prospect that they would drop even more didn’t fill them with joy. John didn’t blame them.

Elizabeth held up her hand to forestall any debate. “Please, let Dr. McKay explain.”

Rodney glared at the assembly. “If a warm derrière,” he pronounced it with a deliberate French accent which John found annoying, and no, not hot, “is more important to you than a power-shield against the Wraith, I think you’re on the wrong expedition.” He raised his chin.  
“And you can take the next supply ship back to Earth. It’s necessary to …”

When some low ‘boos’ greeted this opening, Radek interrupted Rodney. “What Rodney wants to say is that we have a mid-term plan to save energy. In the future, we’ll use the ZPMs only for things like shields and long-range sensors. The daily consumption of energy will be covered with solar panels, wind generators and heat pumps. We are currently working on a lists of supplies needed to send to the SGC.”

“But how does that help us keep from freezing our asses off now?” someone from the military asked belligerently.

Zelenka pushed his spectacles higher on his nose and answered with a big smile, “Our short-term plan says that we save half of the heating energy with a simple idea.”

“I can’t sleep when it’s only 25 degrees in my room!” The sergeant huffed.

“Moron,” Rodney mumbled, then said in a louder voice, “Try to think outside the box for a second, and I realize that it can be hard for a jarhead. What’s the alternative if you don’t want to go down with the temperature?” When the sergeant didn’t answer immediately, Rodney continued sarcastically, “Right, you increase the number of the people in the room.”

“But…?”

“You have a better suggestion? I just can’t wait to hear it,” Rodney sneared.

People all started talking at the same time until Elizabeth quieted them with a loud, “Silence!” When everyone was looking at her, she said in a moderate tone, “Dr. Zelenka, Dr. McKay and I have already talked this through, and we propose to close all towers down, except the central tower. There are enough guest quarters to choose from for the next several days. Only condition: you share your room with at least one other person. But if you want to share with more, go ahead.” Elizabeth looked around in the room. “What do you think?”

Lots of people were nodding, some were talking to their neighbours, there was some discussion, but in the end, after taking the vote, all department heads were positive, that this was a doable solution. And much better than reducing the temperature or cutting off the hot water supply as Rodney had threatened to do.

“So, it’s decided,” Elizabeth summed up. “We start immediately, so please inform your departments accordingly.”

“Can we share the room with whomever we want?” Dr. Sigurdsdottir from Biology asked excitedly. “Or is there a staff roster?”

“Uhm … no,” Elizabeth answered. Obviously, this question had taken her by surprise. “I think it would be best to choose your own room mates. I mean you know best who snores and who doesn’t.” She looked at John for confirmation.

“Absolutely,” John replied and nodded mechanically. He felt a bit blindsided and needed a moment to process that. For nearly four years now they had followed more or less strictly earth protocols. They had observed even outdated rules like DADT, especially when Colonel Caldwell was on the station. And now suddenly Elizabeth proposed some sort of a sleepover party? With no regard to whom was sharing with whom, and perhaps even a bed? Wow! He forced himself not to start thinking in this direction. Not when all eyes were still on him.

He cleared his throat. Okay, maybe it really boosted morale when people were more concerned about who to invite, what to do and what to eat, than about the temperature in the room. And so, John repeated once more, “Absolutely. Invite whomever you want.” He accompanied it with a wave of his hand. As if this was no big thing. As if they hadn’t thrown all their principles overboard. As if there weren’t pictures of a half-naked Rodney floating through his mind.

Before the next round of discussions started, Elizabeth spoke once more. “One last thing. You, as the department heads, please make sure that nobody is excluded. Try to mediate, and if all else fails, invite a single person to your room.”

“But not Kavanagh,” Rodney said under his breath so that only John could hear him.

John gave him a teasing smile. “Tsk, tsk. But if he’s the only one left from your department?”

“I’ll order someone to accommodate him,” Rodney promised and pressed his lips firmly together.

“Okay. I’ll talk to you this afternoon and see how it’s going.” John was glad that there was no one like the slimy scientist in the military contingent.  


  
\------------------------------------------------

Around five o’clock John went in search of Rodney. He found him in his lab, where he was debating with Radek and Miko about the best places where to implement the solar panels. They asked him for his advice and discussed the options for half an hour until Miko and Radek left to update their blueprints.

When they were alone, John asked: “Did you do your homework? Are all the scientists staying with someone?”

“Yeah, and believe it or not, even Kavanagh has still some friends. Or,” Rodney added pensively, “he paid them to bunk with him, I don’t know,”

John grinned. “I guess there really is a kettle for every pot. Even for someone like Kavanagh.” He didn’t mention that he wasn’t astonished that Kavanagh had friends. While people respected Rodney for saving their lives on a regular basis, there were some who sided voluntarily with Kavanagh in their dislike of Rodney.

Rodney pulled a face like seeing an empty ZPM. “Whatever.” He rubbed his hands together. “And you? All your tiny tin soldiers cared for?”

“Yep, all checked off.”

“Good. Who are you staying with?” Rodney’s fingers played some sort of imaginary piano piece in the air, until he clapped them resolutely together.

“Uhm … I …” There had been some offers, among others from Teyla, Ronon and Lorne but John had been so busy matching people that he had lost out of sight that he was still without a partner.

Rodney sighed. “I expected as much. You don’t have a roomie yet, have you?” When John only answered with another “Uhm”, Rodney continued, “You may thank me for me foresight later. Any time. Because I already expected something like that, I put my dibs on a room in the middle of the central tower.”

“Not the penthouse?” John teased. Since when was second best good enough for Rodney?

Rodney shook his head. “I learned from Canadian winters and my first own apartment that the highest floor is usually too hot in summer and too cold in winter. You can’t go wrong with a flat in the middle of a house.”

“Okay. So …?”

“So, as we are the last two unclaimed persons left, I invite you to my room,” Rodney said firmly. He looked John straight in the face, as if he was expecting a rebuke which he had to counter immediately.

“Cool.” Even if his pulse raced and his stomach fluttered, John knew how to make a poker face. Something he had learned in the Sheppard household.

Rodney relaxed visibly. “So, you’re fine with it?”

“Yeah. Good thinking, Rodney.” John gave him a thumbs up.

“Uhm … thanks.” He gave John a lopsided smile.

John changed the subject. “We’ll meet with Teyla and Ronon at half past seven in the mess hall,” he said and made some steps in the direction of the door.

“Fine, I’ll be there,” Rodney promised.

The door closed behind John. He leaned against the wall and took a deep breath. Oh. My. God. One week with Rodney in one room, probably even in one bed. The fates were really against him. No chance to keep up his calm demeanour for a whole week. Not with Rodney so close. This was so not fair.

He walked down the corridor and his last thoughts played in his mind. Not fair. He rolled his eyes. He was so pathetic! Well, he wasn’t twelve anymore and had lots of possibilities to change that. He was sure that Ronon’s offer still stood. Or Lorne’s.

But … But Rodney would be very disappointed and look at him with his unhappy face. Dammit. No, he couldn’t do that to him. John sighed. Or he could man up, and make it through the week. He could bring so many films and things to eat that there would be no need to have more than a bit of small-talk. Rodney would be more than happy with that plan if there were chocolate cookies, and cheetos, and the little red fruit from Eritona III involved. John changed his direction and went straight to the mess to have a little chat with cook.

\-----------------------------------------------------

Two hours later the team met for dinner. Teyla and Ronon seemed content to learn that John and Rodney would share a room.

“Great. So, none of us will have to listen to his whining that it is too cold for his delicate constitution,” Ronon winked in Rodney’s direction and gave John a heavy slap on his shoulder which perhaps demonstrated manly bonding or something like that.

“Ha, ha, ha. Super funny,” Rodney countered.

Teyla smiled at all of them. “I think this is an excellent idea.”

John rubbed his shoulder. “It’s not any different than on lots of our missions,” he said dismissively, while thinking at the same time that it would feel totally different. After all, Atlantis was home. Not some planet where they had no other choice than to accept the offered accommodations. You couldn’t leave Atlantis behind. It was like the difference between… Vegas and the city you lived in.

Ronon grinned. “No differences? Except there’ll hopefully be no men with spears standing outside to prevent us from using the rest rooms.”

“Don’t mention that night.” Rodney shuddered, the others laughed.

They talked a bit about that mission, and other missions, and around nine o’clock Teyla announced that she would retire to her bedroom now. That was the signal for all of them to bring their empty dinner trays back. After a last “good night,” they parted in different directions.

Outside the transporter John said, “I’ll fetch my duffle bag and be at your quarters in a few minutes.”

“Our quarters,” Rodney corrected.

“Our quarters,” John repeated and plastered on a big, fake smile.

Oh, crap! Rodney wouldn’t make that easy for him. John had never had a problem sleeping with Rodney in one room. Sometimes Rodney stole the covers, but John had no qualms to steal them back. Rodney only snored when he had a cold. Otherwise the only noise he made during sleep was smacking his lips. In the past John had thought that Rodney was dreaming of eating, recently he had other x-rated ideas.

The only real problem with Rodney was that he didn’t stay on his side of the bed. Rodney was something of a cuddler. And it didn’t matter if he went to bed on the right or the left side. Rodney unfailingly ended up in the middle of the bed or even on John’s side. Until recently, John had simply pushed or rolled him back, but in the last months he had always waited a few moments before doing so, inhaling Rodney’s scent, savouring the feeling of a warm body so close to his. John sighed. He should really get a grip on himself or Rodney was in for an interesting revelation.

Surprisingly, the evening felt like every other evening they spent together, watching TV, playing video games, or discussing silly things. Rodney had also made a detour to the mess, and therefore they had more than enough to nibble on during the old Doctor Who series. They watched three episodes while sitting on the bed, under the covers. Their legs were touching from time to time and so were their shoulders, but nothing felt out of the ordinary. At least that’s what John tried to convince himself of.

And even the tactics about using the bathroom and giving the other time to change into their sleeping t-shirts were routine. John was relaxing considerably and feeling slightly optimistic that this wasn’t such a bad idea.

But when Rodney came back from the bathroom, he didn’t immediately switch off the light. He sat down beside John on the mattress and looked at him with a strange expression. Something between a very intense combination of hope and discomfort. John wanted to look away, but he didn't. Better to face a threat than running from it.

Rodney’s hand smoothed the bed linen. Finally, he asked, “You know that this apartment has a connecting door to another room?”

“On the other side of the bathroom, yes. I found it.” John didn’t know what to make of this question. Did Rodney want him to leave? After he had invited him? John felt suddenly cold inside and it had nothing to do with the temperature in the bedroom. He looked up at Rodney, from where he was lying on the bed, keeping his expression deliberately blank. “Why?”

Rodney’s bit on his bottom lip. “A connecting door means that nobody on the outside knows if we are respecting the rules, in which room we are...”

“Yes, Rodney. I know what a connecting door is.”

“Fine, fine.” Rodney held up his hands in placating way. “I only wanted you to know that you do have an escape route.”

“Do I need one?” John frowned. McKay was being even weirder than usual.

“You never know.”

John didn’t know how to answer that and the silence between them stretched. With the computer off, it was really quiet in the room, the gusts of wind rattling at the window frames were the only sound. John shivered and burrowed further into his blanket. He patted the space beside him. “Come on, Rodney. Lay down, you’re getting cold.”

“First I have to tell you something.” Rodney was shuddering slightly.

John rolled onto his side, so that he would face Rodney and commanded, while holding up a corner of the blanket, “First blanket, then talk.”

“Fine.” Rodney flopped down reluctantly, shimmied under the blanket, took a deep breath and said accusingly, “It’s all your fault!”

“O-kay.” That sounded absolutely like McKay. John relaxed a bit. “Care to elaborate?” he asked with the hint of a smile.

Rodney poked his index finger into John’s chest. “It’s your unreadable-ness. Your ‘I’m-so-cool-even-the-weather-outside-seems-warm’- attitude.”

“Wow.” John spluttered. “I’m hurt. What have I done to deserve this?”

“You…, you…,” he huffed. “I come up with this wonderful plan to share quarters – and you only nod. Do you know how long it took me to persuade Elizabeth? Only because I had prepared diagrams and statistics could I convince her in the end.”

He poked John again and continued with a scowl, “I reserve quarters with a big bed – for us – and your only reaction is ‘cool’. I snuggle up to you under the covers and you, you start the third episode of Doctor Who! After all that staring at me, at my ass, at my mouth while I was eating, and I may add, lasciviously and provocatively slowly my pudding, I thought … you were interested. But now, I’m not sure. And therefore, we really need to talk. And you hate talking about feelings. So, it’s your fault if we have to do it now.” Rodney had started hesitantly, but he fired his last words like bullets at John.

There was so much information in this reproach that John had to sort it out in his head first.

But because he wasn’t as cool as Rodney was insinuating, he burst out, “This playing footsie thing was ‘snuggling’? But we do it all the time! How was I supposed to know that today it meant more?”

“Because we’re in one bed? Not a centimeter between us? Touching? How much more obvious could it possibly be?”

John was gob smacked. For him it hadn’t felt that different. It had felt safe and familiar, and totally normal. An evening with a friend. Who obviously was trying to… court him? Seduce him?

When Rodney was poking him again, he grabbed Rodney’s wrist and prevented him from doing it again. He felt Rodney's pulse beneath his fingers. Rodney's heart was pounding faster and faster with every passing second. As did John’s. Rodney wanted him! He had fought with Elizabeth over these crazy sleeping arrangements because Rodney wanted to share a bed with him. John felt his lips curling into a broad smile, and a deep, slow tingling sensation was engulfing his whole body.

“Yes.”

“Yes – what?” Rodney’s voice was still grumbling but his eyes were already bright.

John’s hand glided up Rodney’s arm until he placed it in the crook of Rodney’s neck. “Yes, to everything. Everything you want. Everything you ever imagined.”

“I have a very vivid imagination.”

“I never doubted that.” John knew that he was smiling like a loon, but since Rodney was doing the same thing it was okay.

Then they both rolled into the middle of the bed and John kissed Rodney, Rodney returned the kiss, and it was everything John had ever dreamed of. Rodney and Atlantis – it didn’t get any better.

When Rodney’s fingers found their way under his t-shirt, John groaned softly. He wanted more and pressed closer to Rodney. But there were still too many clothes between them and John pulled his t-shirt over his head, tossing it out of the bed.

“Good idea,” Rodney said and did the same.

For a moment they stared in awe at each other until Rodney said, “Cold.” With a laugh, they both pulled the blankets over them.

John savoured the warmth, savoured the anticipation, but Rodney was impatient as always. He couldn’t help but notice Rodney’s fingers at the strings of the sweatpants he wore to bed. A second later they were pulled down. Rodney accompanied this with more kisses. Kisses that travelled from John’s lips over John’s neck, and down to his nipples, leaving a burning trail of desire. John had always known that Rodney was able to do more than one thing simultaneously, and so he was only mildly surprised when his hand glided from Rodney’s waist to his flanks and he encountered naked skin. Somehow Rodney had already got rid of his own pyjama bottoms. John’s breath accelerated.

Naked skin was good. Very good. John fingers trailed lower and he squeezed and fondled Rodney’s ass cheek with his left hand. Rodney’s ass in his hand felt as wonderful as he’d imagined it in his fantasies. No, better. Hotter. Like Rodney. And Rodney seemed to like it, because he said, “Oh, God. Yes”, in a tone he had reserved so far only for ZPMs.

“Yes,” John repeated, and Rodney grinned enthusiastically. He looked so content, so happy that John had to kiss him once more. Kissing Rodney felt like finally being home. Rodney made a soft, nearly desperate sound in the back of his throat and tried to devour John’s mouth. They rubbed against each other and long buried feelings threatened to overwhelm John. His instinct reaction was to hold them back…

“Let go,” Rodney whispered, and John wondered since when had Rodney become so good at reading him, when only half an hour ago he had complained how he could never seem to read what John was thinking.

Then Rodney rolled on top of him, pinning John with his weight into the mattress. All John could feel was warmth and longing. It felt absolutely right. They were both in the middle of the bed and it was perfect.

The city might freeze tonight, but who cared? Rodney and he had found the best way to keep warm. Those were John’s last coherent thoughts because Rodney showed him that he hadn’t only made plans for sleeping arrangements…

 

\---------------The End-------------

 

© November-December 2019


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